Sometimes The Truth Hurts, And The Lies Help

By: A Runner At Heart

1/1/2013

She hated the mockery of the day. The sun was shining brightly, sweat dripping off her face. Despite her mother's request, she wore black. All black, covering her from head to toe. And now, she regretted it. But how could she wear her cute floral summer shirt, with the new jean shorts she bought just two weeks ago, when it was her father's funeral? How could she wear such an outfit in December? How is it, that the sun burned so brightly, the temperature in the mid eighties, the children in the park just across the cemetery laughing, enjoying the rareness in this kind of weather? And all on her father's funeral.

For Cammie, that was mockery.

And even now, she felt disgusted with her mother. With Macey. Basically, with everyone on this planet. How could a funeral feel like a party? She watched her mother flirt away with her boss. Macey showing off more skin then necessary. And the snide comments she heard. People whispering that the death of Mathew Morgan caused his only daughter to go into madness. I mean, who in the world would be wearing such ludicrous outfits as Cammie.

But, in the end, after all the surface emotion, she just felt emptiness.

She glanced at Macey, and sighed. She loved her (as a friend of course), but after all these emotions, she realized that Macey, never really was the picture of a best friend. She was bossy, and at first Cammie admired it, but now, she couldn't stand it. In fact, she looked at everyone at the funeral (most she barely knew), and found something she despised about each and everyone. She remembered one of her teachers telling the class at the beginning of the school year, that one's ultimate best friend, was the one person who listened to them when they needed someone to talk to. And thinking back to that, who was Cammie's best friend, not Macey, that's for sure.

In fact, she knew exactly who.

Her father.

And he was dead. Dead. She accepted it. It hurt like crazy, but she knew that it was in the past, and there was no way of getting him back. Her heart still clenched, still felt like someone was twisting it with a fork, much like you do with pasta. But that was what Zach told her to do, and it was what she was trying to do.

"Cammie!" She turned her head, and like déjà vu, Macey was running up to her, a smile on her face, though, unlike the first time, Cammie didn't smile back. She kept her solemn face. Now that she thought about it, Macey's smiles weren't contagious, Cammie just made herself believe they were.

"Guess what! I scored a college guy! He invited me to his party, and, well, I said yes!" Macey was bouncing up and down. Cammie looked at her happy face. She looked at her mom's arms around her boss's biceps, and everyone else, champagne in their hands, all mingling about. This was no funeral.

And that made Cammie run.


She ended up at the local froyo shop. How, she didn't know. She saw a swarm of kids come in, concluding that school was over.

Great, I run only to come here, to these people.

She headed back to the way she came from, when she heard voices.

"Come on Zach, live a little!" Cammie turned around, only to see a bunch of Zach's friends pushing him into the shop.

"Guys, I don't like her, so please stop," he said exasperated. She saw the trouble in his face. She wondered why he was friends with those people anyways. They were all the jocks, hyped up on steroids, and the only friends, she like of his was Jonas. They were the ones who got in trouble, but strangely, even if Zach was with them, he never got in trouble. Maybe people just knew by looking at him.

That's how it was for her father. He was poor, but no one messed with him.

"Oh, we know you don't like her, but come one, it'll make you popular, well known, and well, she like's you, there no chase! It's easy and simple like that!" Grant, the biggest of the group said.

"No." Zach said with such firmity that it shocked Cammie. And with his final word, he stuffed his hands in his pocket (he was wearing a jacket even in this weather), put his head down, and walked in the direction that Cammie was in. She tried to hide behind the pillars in front of the many little shops, but ended up tripping and fell onto of the like weighted, iron table that was out for decoration. Zach looked up and smile as he saw the brown-haired girl, with her doe wide eyes, looking up at him guiltily.

"Hey," he said softly, giving her a hand to help her up.

"Hey back," she said, her voice hoarse from the combination of the endless crying she did during the funeral, the fact that she spoke no more than twenty words that week, and the fact that she'd ran probably more than two miles to get to where she was now. Zach took in her outfit and his eyes softened.

"How was it," he gently asked. She looked down, her hair covering her face.

"Horrible." Was her short, one word reply. Zach looked at her, and he had the urge to bring her into his arms. Over the years of comforting many, he'd always have the urge to take the pain away from anyone. Her hair was a mess, covering her face, and Zach restrained himself from tucking her hair behind her ears, fully aware of his friends watching his every move.

"Come on, let's go somewhere else," Zach whispered to her, and she looked back up at him. He gave her a small, genuine smile. She nodded her head, and he gently took her hand, every step they took, getting farther and farther away from Zach's judgmental friends.


"It's-it's-it just seems to wrong to me, you know? How, how could they act like that? Especially my mother..." Cammie trailed off, and looked up at Zach. He sat there, studying every word she said, giving her his full attention. He nodded his head in agreement, and something about the gesture made a small laugh escape her mouth. Zach looked up at her, and once he realized she was laughing at him, he to let out a few small chuckles as well.

They were both sitting in front of Zach's house, on the steps leading up to the door. Surprisingly, Zach had lived fairly close to Cammie, nothing but a short five minute's walk separating them, which made sense since both of them attended that same elementary school.

In fact, that itself also surprised Cammie. How could they have been in the same presence since they were five, yet just now did they talk to each other as friends, rather than partners in a project? Zach was a great person to hang out, and somehow, he always made you feel good about yourself. He was the perfect listener.

Just like Cammie's dad.

And that thought frightened her. She didn't want someone to "replace" her dad. She still wanted to curl up in a ball, and pity herself. She still wanted to feel the pang in her heart at the mere thought of him. To her, it didn't seem right to go around, "flirting" (as her mom did) when his death was so fresh. She felt like it wasn't respectful towards her dad. Yet, this was the one thing Zach insisted she do, and it was the one thing she didn't like about him.

"You have to accept it. Trust me, by prolonging it, you're hurting yourself, and-and it effects you, makes you do thing that you'd never do." Those had been his exact words, and it made Cammie wonder. Why would he say such things? What was his motive? Or, what drove him to say those? What happened?

Of course, Cammie was in no place to ask him. She could feel his wall. She knew the signs of people closing themselves from others, and Zach seemed to do it more than the average human being.

Five minutes had past, and none of them had said anything. They sat in a silence, and Cammie could feel the tension rising. She didn't know where it was coming from, but it made her uncomfortable.

"How's school?" Was the first thing that came out of her mouth. It was lame, but it actually was a question she wanted an answer from. After her "episode" she was curious as to how everyone reacted.

"Uh, okay I guess. No rumors about you going crazy or anything. I don't think anyone know the reason behind what happened. It seems like everyone just chose to ignore it." Zach replied, looking up into the sky, his hand still stuffed into his pocket. Cammie nodded her head, a signal that she heard, and then she studied Zach. He seemed to get inside her head, know exactly what she's thinking, and exactly what she wanted. And that unnerved her. Maybe this was why he didn't have many friends. He was a great person to talk to, someone you could trust with your words, but he always made you on your toes, and that puzzled Cammie. Maybe that's why he was friends with the jocks. He wasn't in any sport, but he was interesting. He made them think.

Cammie's phone buzzed and she looked down, met with the screen signaling that Macey had texted her. She sighed, and Zach shot her a sympathetic smile. As if he knew her problem with Macey. Again, he knew exactly what was going on inside her head. Cammie chose to ignore it, after all, she was in no mood to deal with Macey. But Zach's phone rang shortly after, and he closed his eye, and answered his phone.

"Hi Marie," he dully said.

"You better get your ass in the firm right now. We have a very important discussion with you, and unless you want to be returned, you better be here in two minutes." The lady in the other end yelled, and Zach glanced at Cammie, embarrassed.

"Yes Ma'am," Zach replied, getting up. He hung up the phone. Cammie opened her mouth, as if to say "it's okay" but Zach beat her to speaking.

"Sorry."

And with that, he sped towards the main road.

Maybe that was why the jocks accepted him. He made Usain Bolt have a run for his money. And no pun intended.


I could go on about how sorry I am for not updating in forever, but I'm not going to. I feel like you all don't want to hear excuse after excuse (no matter how important they are) about my lack of updates. At this point, I can't promise anything.

And, as for the sequel to my other writing, well, it's in hiatus. I have to get all my depressing, dreariness out of my system, and writing this helps.

I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I had fun writing it. If you could, I'd appreciate if you could leave me some feedback, this is not edited, so any tips on that would be appreciated. But, if you don't have time, I understand.

Love,

A Runner At Heart